Kate's Queen City Notes

December 10, 2013
by allthenamesaretakensothisisreallyreallylong 1 Comment

The Place I Call Home

NOTE: Readers who aren’t familiar with Cincinnati. This blog is going to be about the neighborhood that I’ve spent the most time in. The neighborhood is called Over the Rhine, or OTR for short. It is just north of the downtown business district. It was blighted for the first 10 years that I lived here. There has been a renaissance in the last 8 years. It has the largest collection of intact 19th century urban architecture in the country. It was allowed to rot from 1970’s until just 8 years ago. For more on this neighborhood and current events read this: https://allthenamesaretakensothisisreallyreallylong.wordpress.com/2013/11/13/a-streetcar-named-wtf/

I lived in Over the Rhine when it was blighted. I lived there when the streets were lined with boarded-up buildings. I lived on the corner of 13th and Jackson 2003-2005. Here’s what isn’t obvious about that place in that time. There was a real community there. The people who chose this place as their home were grounded and real. While they were unconventional makers and builders. They were artists, musicians, entrepreneurs, and chefs. There’s something that makes all posturing and pretense melt away when, the only thing that’s standing between you and a random act of violence is the vigilance of the people who live on your street.

Many things have changed since 2005. Most notably, OTR has been gentrified and is considerably more expensive to live in. The crappy corner bar with 2 dollar Jim Beams has been replaced with a craft beer bar with drinks at 10 dollars each. Rentals have given way to condos. Condos start at $250,000 for a very small two bedroom without parking. My 1200 sqft 2 story loft with 1.5 baths was a mere $650 a month in 2005. I’m sure that rent as at least doubled.

These changes have brought much-needed money to the neighborhood to spur development. And for the most part, I am happy for it. Although, these changes have by their nature changed my neighborhood. I don’t say hi to the drug dealers anymore. Instead I see lots of runners; a rarity in the past. The bars and eateries that I used to walk into and sit immediately are often on a 2 hour wait. But I’ve been wondering, how much has the community changed? Are there still great artists, makers, and bartenders living there?

I got my answer on Friday. Cincinnati shuts down in snow storms. Friday was no exception. Since I live within walking distance, I headed to OTR. I knew that the bars would be filled with locals, or people who could walk to their destinations. Suburbanites in Cincinnati would not leave their homes in this kind of weather.

I headed to The Drinkery. When I walked in, the nine strangers at the bar cheered and gave me high-fives. Apparently, people who go out in that weather appreciate others who do the same. My friend texted and let me know that she was across the street at Cincy by the Slice. Since they were pretty slow, we bonded with the staff over bad dating website pictures. One of the pictures features a recorder, a box of wine, a fire on a laptop screen, no shirt, and an animal skin rug; this picture is magnificently bad.

We headed outside into a snowball fight. This was cut short by the fact that our primary opponent lacked gloves. In The Drinkery, we found that the bartenders were well lubricated and chatty. At some point, we found ourselves outside with a bartender singing James Brown with Kevin the Poet. See the video below for an understanding of who Kevin the poet is.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5JyG1z8pvfM

After too many dollar Ancient Ancient Ages, we headed to Japps. It was at this location that I saw twerking for the first time. It just so happened that an Asian man jumped out of the DJ box and lead my friend to the dance floor. A few moments later, this man was twerking so aggressively on my friend that she nearly fell over. I can’t express how pleased I am that, my first twerking experience was with a gay man going for a ridiculous score of 11 out of 10.

After some less than graceful dancing (note: that is only in reference to my rhythmically challenged ass and not my friend’s), we needed some pizza to soak up the booze. We returned to Cincy by the Slice and ordered a pepperoni pizza. In the short time that we waited for pizza, we were joined by 6 or so people. They missed the cutoff for pizza, so we shared ours. Then we had a dance party with the staff at Cincy by the Slice to Missy Elliot.

This night was so fun. This night was filled with lots of great people. There weren’t any weird come-ons. There weren’t any douche bags. It has convinced me that the people who choose to live in OTR are still fantastic. The rents have gone up. The booze is more expensive, but the people who choose to call that place home? They are exactly as awesome as they were a decade ago.

This is a shot of 12th and Vine facing West.

This is looking north on Vine street.

This is outside The Ensemble Theater. I don’t know why I liked seeing the snow lit-up from behind.

Looking north at the cornder of Central Parkway and Vine.

Here’s the Christmas tree on Fountain Square

Looking east on 5th street.

Here’s my rooftop!

December 8, 2013
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100 Books by 40: A Town Like Alice

I’ve been on this 100 books by 40 mission for a little over a year. At the outset, I wanted this effort to drive me to read more. If that is the only measure of success, this has been very successful. There have been other unintended consequences.

I like writing. I am doubtful that my writing is of interest to most other people, but I am satisfied with the effect the process has on my mood and thoughts. I’ve noticed through the year that my thoughts are getting easier and easier to type. I’ve picked up editing habits that yield ever better results. My posts now go though multiple draft readings across days prior to posting. Plus, rereading my year of posts helps me spot grammatical issues across time. I noticed that I have a problem mixing my metaphors. Metaphors will get extra attention in my edits from now on.

In addition to establishing better writing patterns, this year has made me a different reader. I recall in the not terribly distant past, I struggled with reading Dickens. The variations on English proved challenging. With Austen, Hardy, Eliot, Dickens, and the Bronte sisters behind me, I don’t struggle anymore. Seventeenth century British Literature feels easily in my grasp. I’m still pretty certain that I’m missing some nuance in these novels, but I easily follow plots and conversations.

These changes are positive, but I’ve noticed one effect that I’m ambivalent about. Reading these novels is making me more sensitive to technically good prose. I was gazing longingly at my unedited copy of On the Road, and I thought how exciting it will be to pick that up. It’s number 90 in my list, and it’s my favorite book. What a great way to celebrate wrapping up this adventure. Then I thought about how pedestrian recent novels feel to me now, fresh off Hardy and Eliot. What if I get to my favorite book and only find disappointment? What if I don’t enjoy David Foster Wallace anymore?

I can’t explain how sad this makes me feel. My favorite authors reach into my deepest thoughts and emotions and come back giving voice to things that I cannot find words for. Their voices resonate deeply, and make me feel less alone. But still, I’m too curious to deviate from this adventure. Now that I’ve started I must know if my most cherished books can withstand the changes that have been wrought in me.

So, all of that has nothing to do with A Town Like Alice. As mentioned in past posts, the 30’s are the land of 1000 page books, but A Town Like Alice broke from that trend with a mere 300 pages. The book is basically a war romance. The character development is good, and the true events that inspired part of the plot were fascinating. The female lead gets marched around Malaya with a group of British women for miles and miles. The Japanese didn’t have an appropriate camp to house them, so military leaders just kept sending them to different outposts without purpose. More than half of the women and children died.

I found all of the historical information in this book really interesting. It gave me a great sense of what Australia was like after World War 2. Otherwise, I found this book unremarkable.

Welcome to the 30’s of the BBC’s 100 best books list, also known as the land of 1000-page books.

December 1, 2013
by allthenamesaretakensothisisreallyreallylong 3 Comments

100 Book by 40: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

My book quest has made it into my dreams. Typically my dreams are about anxiety or mundane activities with a little weird thrown in. I spent many years bartending and waiting tables; my anxiety dreams for nearly a decade involved some form of me being in the weeds. If you aren’t familiar with the phrase “in the weeds”, it’s a service industry phrase to describe getting overwhelmed by your tables/customers. There are many causes for a good server to be in the weeds, but they normally stem from a particularly needy table or poor seating timing. My mundane dreams typically involve something that I would do in my waking hours. A few weeks ago, I had a dream that I was required to converse with other people using only PHP (server-side web programming language) statements and methods. I woke up laughing.

So, my book dream, I was with Willy Wonka (Gene Wilder and not Johnny Depp). He was giving me a tour of my high school cafeteria. My classmates were at various tables acting out assorted Disney movies. I’m not sure why or how the cafeteria transformed into the set for Bedknobs and Broomsticks, but it did. Willy Wonka seemed to take this morphing as an obvious transition and proceeded the tour in our new location. This is where I woke up.

I’ve seen the 1971 edition of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory several times, although the last sitting was years and years ago. I’ve not seen the 2005 version. Here’s the first thing that struck me about the book in contrast to the movies. Willy Wonka isn’t as weird in the book as he is portrayed to be in either of the movies, but particularly the 2005 release.

As a kid, I found Willy Wonka terrifying, and the oompa loompas doubly so. Full disclosure, I am completely freaked out by little people. I am ashamed that I feel that way, as I know they are people and should be treated with respect. They freak me out in the same way that an unleashed dog nearing me freaks me out. I was bitten by an Irish Setter when I was 5, and unfamiliar dogs still make that lizard part of my brain light up with the fight or flight response. I feel the same when confronted by a little person, although I was not bitten one. Still the same fight or flight physical response happens.

After the first few chapters of the book, I was put at ease by a number of things. First, Willy Wonka was peculiar, but not to the extent that I was expecting given both the movies. And the oompa loompas were described as being knee-height, bearing more in common with Tinkerbell than the orange-faced terrors in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

Once the uncomfortably weird aspects of the movie were purged from my mind, I really enjoyed the book. The book was less dark than either of the movies. With one exception, the uncertain fates of the naughty children are pretty heavy. They imply that Augustus Gloop could be mashed into raspberry cream. Veruca Salt along with her parents could be incinerated. Although the book seems to pass this off as less scary than it seems as I write it now.

In short, I really liked this book. I liked it more than either of the movies, and I am a Gene Wilder fan. Because Willy Wonka is less frightening, the ending with Charlie and his family moving into the factory is far more sensible. Finally as a vehicle for teaching morality to children, I thought it wasn’t as heavy handed as some of my other reads on this list. Now, only to get over my irrational issues with little people…

November 13, 2013
by allthenamesaretakensothisisreallyreallylong 1 Comment

A Streetcar Named WTF

This was the view of 13th Street from my OTR loft. It was, with out question, the best place I have ever lived.

If you are familiar with Cincinnati politics, you know that a streetcar line is under contruction. You probably also know that voters voted for the streetcar twice. On November 5th in a mid-term election with low voter turn-out, the city elected a mayor whose platform was to stop the streetcar. The city elected a city council majority that does not support the streetcar.

I’m going to talk about being a progressive voter in a conservative town, and why my future city will be determined by the fate of this project. I will not debate the merits of the streetcar project. If you want to get a firm understanding of why I think the project should move forward, have a look at these two blogs. They do a good job of capturing the reasons that I am solidly behind completing the project.

Here’s an article describing some of the details around the streetcar project.

Here’s an article describing Cincinnati’s mixed history with progress.

I moved to Cincinnati in 1994. I came to attend the University of Cincinnati. Cincinnati was a big change from Canton. Everything you need to know about Canton can be communicated by saying that it was on the Forbes 10 worst cities list in 2011, I believe. Job opportunites are slim, and city ammenities are slimmer especially for someone who values biking and walking as much as I do. If you can’t get enough strip malls and Applebees Canton is the place for you.

Although Cincinnati is notoriously conservative it was still progressive as compared to Canton. I experienced many firsts here. I went from a driver to a walker/biker. I met people with religious backgrounds that were different from my own. I met openly gay people for the first time. I lived in mixed-income and mixed ethnicity neighborhoods. I tried Indian food for the first time, and promptly fell in love. And specifically in Over the Rhine, I saw my first drug deal, my first hooker and my first historic urban neighborhood.

My friends and I piled in the car to head to a Red’s game. White people from the suburbs openly gawk or are visibly anxious in troubled neighborhoods. While I was unaware of my own gawking on this particular day, I have seen many people do it in the intervening years that I’ve lived in troubled urban neighborhoods. We were in the car mouths gaping, when a hooker walking the crosswalk in front of us flashed us. Naive is an appropriate word to describe my state then, because it dawned on me that this woman probably didn’t lounge around in those heels and that dress for fun. I don’t know what I thought a real prostitute would look like, but I do know she had less teeth than what I was expecting.

It was in this unlikely moment that I fell in love with Over the Rhine. Maybe my experience as a closeted gay teen in the suburbs made me love that the people in OTR wore their problems on their sleeves. Things that happened behind closed doors in the suburbs, happened on the street there. I loved the honesty of it. On top of that, the buildings, the boarded up rotting buildings were among the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. The brick and mortar felt alive with history. They were eyeless, toothless sentries breathing with human triumphs and disasters of more than a century.

From that point forward, I regularly lived in Over the Rhine or near it. I could describe the vibrant community that’s been there for all of my 18 years here. I could tell the story of how the city made wrong turn after wrong turn in shining that blemished jewel. But that would take numerous blog posts. So, skipping much, the current iteration of OTR is a mixed-income, mixed ethnicity neighborhood. In addition to all that development money that was poured into rehabbing the stunning buildings, the city has added numerous bike lanes and has made improvements in the city bus system.

This brings me to the streetcar. Should the mayor kill this project, it is almost certain that a big transportation project won’t be attempted here for at least a decade. So, the question that I am left asking myself is do I want to be 50 and getting the public transportation that I want out of my city?

Because there’s another layer to this question. It’s not just that Cincinnati is lacking transportation, and the republican state legislature seems to only want investment dollars in highways, but Ohio has a defense of marriage amendment in its constitution. Practically, this means gay marriage won’t be legal here for another 6 years at the very soonest. And assuming this divisive issue fails to pass at least once that 6 years becomes 10. So that question, do I want to wait until I am 50 to have my family and transportation in Cincinnati when I could move and have those things now?

I’ve traveled enough to know that it’s unlikely I will find a neighborhood that I love as much as OTR. OTR is the largest, most intact urban historic district in the United States, making the area unique. I stayed to contribute to the neighborhood. I stayed to contribute to the city. Things have changed, they’ve changed so much that with or without the streetcar I think OTR will continue to grow. And this is great, but it also means that I don’t need to stay here anymore. It means that I can go to what I want. I’m ready.

Here’s a link to our work cleaning out the lagering tunnels to make room for tour groups. This particular effort was about clearing out the basement of the Guildhaus on Vine.

November 8, 2013
by allthenamesaretakensothisisreallyreallylong Leave a comment

100 Books by 40: Middlemarch and Pillars of the Earth

In my quest to read 100 books by 40, I have learned that the 30’s are the land of 1000-page books. Between Middlemarch, David Copperfield, and Pillars of the Earth, I feel like each book is taking weeks. I feel that way, because they are. When I download them on my Kindle or pick them up at the library, I find myself groaning at the size of them.

My original intent was to write two separate entries for Middlemarch and Pillars of the Earth. Since I was reading them simultaneously, I was inadvertently comparing them. Both are epic in scope, covering large swaths of time. With Middlemarch set in 19th century England, and Pillars of the Earth set in The Middle Ages, both are narrating an existence that I find remote. Both books are around 1000 pages.

That’s were the similarities end. Some have suggested that Middlemarch is the best novel written in the English language. Pillars of the Earth? Not so much. Pillars of the Earth seemed like a children’s book by comparison. George Eliot carefully crafted characters full of good intentions who all fall victim to their own limited perspectives, experiences, and unacknowledged expectations. She does an incredible job of describing the space between expectations and reality being the canyon that separates a person’s happiness from disappointment in marriage and relationships.

After reading that paragraph, you might think that I enjoyed Middlemarch. I did not. I was scratching my head over Middlemarch‘s reputation through the first half of the book. Clearly, Eliot is a master of the craft of writing gorgeous sentences and paragraphs, but I didn’t really connect with the characters until the last half of the book.

*******Minor Spoiler Alert********

The thing that hooked me was the troubled marriage of Tertius Lydgate and Rosamond Vincy. The way Eliot describes how their relationship decends into dysfunction is stunningly relevant. I think she’s summarized why marriages dissolve for the last two centuries. Eliot’s observations on how we relate to each other is timeless. This discovery made wading through the first half of the book worth it.

Pillars of the Earth then. Ken Follett has a thing for cathedral architecture. He spends many paragraphs talking about building methodology, and cathedral parts like tranceps, celestories, naves, ect. I enjoyed none of that. Not only are his descriptions difficult for me to visualize, but I simply don’t give a shit about cathedrals. Sorry about it, Europe.

On top of this, Follett’s characters are as shallow as kiddie pools in comparison to Eliot’s. I finished the book at a bar. The patron next to me said reading the book was on his bucket list. Thinking that a literary perspective on Pillars of the Earth might make me more positive about the book, I inquired why it was on his bucket list. He proceeded to say that it was important. I asked in what way. I legitimately wanted to hear some explanation for why the book is great. I realized too late that he was manswering. (Manswer – when a man presents something as fact that he’s only deduced or has limited to no knowledge of. This habit seems to come on the dad gene.) I accidentally backed him into a corner where he had to admit that he didn’t know why the book was important. I immediately felt bad for making things awkward.

I do have a new appreciation for inherent political instability of The Middle Ages. But even in this respect Pillars of the Earth holds up poorly against Middlemarch. Eliot had the benefit of writing in the time she lived, so her descriptions of the political environment and social class as actors on the characters resonates where Follett falls flat.

Net Middlemarch, yes. Pillars of the Earth, no.

In closing, here’s some stellar quotes from Middlemarch.

We mortals, men and women, devour many a disappointment between breakfast and dinner-time; keep back the tears and look a little pale about the lips, and in answer to inquiries say, ‘Oh, nothing!’ Pride helps us; and pride is not a bad thing when it only urges us to hide our own hurts―not to hurt others…

I am not magnanimous enough to like people who speak to me without seeming to see me…

For my part I am very sorry for him. It is an uneasy lot at best, to be what we call highly taught and yet not to enjoy: to be present at this great spectacle of life and never to be liberated from a small hungry shivering self–never to be fully possessed by the glory we behold, never to have our consciousness rapturously transformed into the vividness of a thought, the ardour of a passion, the energy of an action, but always to be scholarly and uninspired, ambitious and timid, scrupulous and dimsighted.

October 3, 2013
by allthenamesaretakensothisisreallyreallylong Leave a comment

How I Came to Helping a Man Facedown in the Street

My recovery plan for Midpoint Music Festival was to eat a nice brunch and write my MPMF reviews at the coffee shop. After brunch I headed to Findlay Market where I had a really nice chat with the woman behind the counter at Churchill’s Teas. I left with a matcha wisk and some Samauri grade matcha.

While I was walking down Race Street toward Central Parkway, I heard a hollow thud behind me. I turned around and saw a man face down in the street. I stared dumbly at him for a few seconds, because someone lying motionless in the street is quite unusual.

He seemed in no hurry to get up; oncoming traffic urged me to reach him before vehicles did. In the contest between this guy and addiction, the addiction had it by a landslide. The grim on his clothing had been building up for months. I talked to him. I shook his shoulder. He didn’t move. I got in front of him to direct traffic around him to make sure he didn’t get run over.

While I was directing traffic one woman drove up and asked if I needed 911. I said yes. She pulled her car over and made the call. Two other women in the next car pulled over. One woman was a doctor and came over to check the man’s pulse. A passing cyclist asked if I needed help, and agreed to bike a block north to look for the police that I recalled passing.

Once the police arrived they carried the man from the street and agreed to check him out. I went on my way figuring that I had done all that I could. It was a bit unsettling to see, as that man was someone’s son. Someone loved him. Someone probably still loves him. And this is where he is.

I stewed over that on the rest of my walk to Coffee Emporium. Upon arrival the doctor and her friend were already there in line. They bought me a coffee for stopping to help the man. It was a sweet gesture.

Here’s the thing that struck me about this. Of the 8 people who saw what was happening, 7 of them stopped and asked if they could help. When all you see of other humans is what’s on reality TV and in the news, things look really bleak. But that’s not how most real people act. That’s a spectacle that we don’t have the good sense to look away from.

October 2, 2013
by allthenamesaretakensothisisreallyreallylong 6 Comments

Midpoint Music Festival 2013 Review: Saturday

Welcome to my Midpoint Music Festival 2013 Review, the Saturday edition. If would like an overview of what MPMF is read this blog post and then come back to this one.

Here’s the agenda that I started out with.

12:30 The School of Rock MPMF Midway
2:00 The Cliftones MPMF Midway
3:00 Twin Peaks at Washington Park
4:15 Tweens at Washington Park
5:30 Wussy at Washington Park
7:00 The Breeders
8:00 METZ at Grammer’s
8:00 The Locals at Main Event
9:30 Black Rebel Motorcycle Club at Grammer’s…
10:30 Bad Veins at the Taft
10:45 Wild Cub at Motr
12:00 Daughter at the Taft
12:30 The Wiskey Gentry at Japp’s

Here’s what actually went down. Several weeks prior to MPMF weekend, I agreed to volunteer at the Redwood Center in Kentucky from 9am to 1pm. I couldn’t bail on that commitment, so I planted daffodil bulbs all morning. By the time I had cleaned-up and eaten, it was 3pm. I skipped Twin Peaks to see the FotoFocus photography exhibition at the Art Academy and inadvertently caught the end of The Ridges’ set. This was a happy accident. I like The Ridges; I saw them open for The Seedy Seeds sometime back. The environment was intimate and complementary of The Ridges’ sound. Plus, we saw some great photography from Cincinnati music events, many of which I attended.

My first show was Tweens at Washington Park. They sounded solid, but their live performance was unremarkable. I feel like a day show in the huge park was not the best environment for them. I want to see them play in a smaller, dark venue. I think the vibe would suit them considerably more.

Tweens at Washington Park

Wussy sounded great. As a bonus, they were hanging around the VIP area along with The Breeders and Tween. Although, I regularly run into Lisa from Wussy, so that isn’t terribly remarkable. Kim and Kelley Deal are regularly found in Cincinnati, so that too isn’t terribly remarkable. There was a bit of a surpise when my friend John spotted the drummer for The National. He was gracious and posed for a picture. Turns out he lives in Cincinnati and is also a Breeders fan.

In celebration of Last Spash’s 20th anniversary, The Breeders played the album cover to cover for this show. It was outstanding. They sounded crisp and sassy. I thought hearing them play “Divine Hammer” would be the highlight of my night. Little did I know my night would have lots more awesome in it.

Kim Deal of The Breeders at Washington Park

I headed to Grammer’s for Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. I managed to get really close to the front without too much effort. There is always at least one band at this fest that excels at melting my face-off with rock and roll. BRMC is the undisputed winner. It felt like the sonic blast from the stage could make paint blister. I found myself uncontrollably screaming at the end of every song. I left that show thinking THAT was going to be the pinnacle of my night. I was still wrong.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club at Grammer’s

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club… and that security guy who offered to let me into the press area in front of the stage. I didn’t take him up on it because I felt like a douche bag.

I headed to Motr for Wild Cub. Motr was a shitshow of humanity. The bar was so packed I couldn’t understand how people were breathing. I squirmed my way past the bar. All hope was lost for getting a drink. I made it to the patio. I suspect I had a conversation with Brian Baker, the guy who covers Cincinnati’s live music scene for City Beat; we didn’t exchange names. We had a pleasant conversation about the fest. Here’s his review of this night. We heard Wild Cub was starting so both my new friend and I shambled into the stage area. Staying in the building until after Wild Cub started proved to be a mistake. It took me 3 songs to make it to the door to get out. Wild Cub sounded good, but it was really too packed for me to enjoy them. I will be on the look out for them to return.

I headed to The Taft in hopes of catching the last of Bad Veins. Unfortunately, I just missed them. There were concerns that The Taft would be difficult to get into for Daughter, due to the single venue tickets selling out for The Taft that night. I had no problems getting in. Once inside I ran into the guy that was standing next to me at BRMC. We discussed how mind-blowing that show was and the Cincinnati music scene in general. It was fun.

Daughter was the show that I was most excited about that night. When they took the stage, I was surprised about a couple of things. First, Elena Tonra is so very retiring and self-effacing. She tentatively approached the microphone. When she opened her mouth the sound that came out was just as divine as can be found on the albums. Their live show was every bit as nuanced and gorgeous as their album. The audience was entranced. This was the only show of the weekend in which the crowd was nearly silent aside from their rounds of cheering. The Taft was packed by the time the show started. It quickly got uncomfortably hot. Elena remarked on it and said that she needed 10 showers. She immediately blushed and mumbled, “why do I talk”? I think her shyness endeared her to the audience even more than how spectacular they sounded. I left this show gobsmacked. So, this was the pinnacle of my night.

Elena of Daughter at The Taft

I had considered heading to Bare Mutants after the Daughter show, but I felt too exhausted by awesome. I didn’t even know that could happen. Instead I went to Madonna’s for a beer with a couple of my fellow fest-goers. We had all been at the Daughter show and needed to decompress. We all agreed that this fest had been the best in memory. I was thrilled to be headed to my bed for much-needed rest, but I was forlorn that the fest was over.

This fest was blessed with randoms. All of the people that I randomly met were pleasant and great conversations where had. It seems strangely fitting that when I returned to my apartment a group of 18 year-old girls were in the foyer when I walked up. There was an abundance of twittering, but they were contentious enough to hold the door for me to pass through with my bicycle. One of the girls gushed as I passed, “I’m not saying this just because I’m drunk, but I think you’re really beautiful”. The first part of that statement was obviously false, but I decided not to look for the dark cloud in that silver lining and just accepted the unusual scenario as someone sharing a sweet sentiment and simply said thank you.

This was such a great three days. I just feel so grateful for the experience.

One little add on for the Cincinnati natives… I frequent the local music events. I’ve seen Bad Veins at least 10 times now. I always feel like a bad native at MPMF, because I generally pick acts that I haven’t seen over ones that I’ve seen before, even when I love them. I skipped The Seedy Seeds at many MPMFs because I wanted to see something new. Am I alone in this feeling? I suspect that I’m not.

October 1, 2013
by allthenamesaretakensothisisreallyreallylong 5 Comments

Midpoint Music Festival 2013 in Review: Friday

Welcome to my Midpoint Music Festival 2013 Review, the Friday edition. If you missed my last blog regarding MPMF, and would like an overview of what MPMF is read this blog post and then come back to this one.

Here’s what my agenda was at the beginning of the night. I was particularly excited for Youth Lagoon, Murder By Death, and The Head And The Heart.

5:30 Izzy And The Catastrophics at MPMF Midway
6:00 American Royalty at Washington Park
7:00 Black Owls at Grammer’s
7:15 Youth Lagoon at Washington Park
8:45 The Head And The Heart at Washington Park
9:30 Warpaint at Grammer’s
10:00 Saturday Looks Good To Me at Know Theater
11:30 Kishi Bashi at CAC
12:00 Murder By Death at Taft
12:30 Sugar Baron at Main Event

I turned up to Izzy, but found that that show had been cancelled. They ended up playing at 6:15 at a different venue. They also filled in for The Whiskey Gentry at their 12:30am slot on Saturday at Japp’s Annex. I was bummed about The Whiskey Gentry cancelling. I didn’t end up seeing Izzy at either of those times. I’ve seen Izzy several times; they are good performers. But with so many options, I wanted to see something new, so I skipped them.

American Royalty sounded good, but their performance wasn’t anything worth discussing. I skipped the Black Owls in favor of Youth Lagoon. The Black Owls are excellent, but like Izzy I’ve seen them several times. Plus, they will be playing Northside Tavern in December, and I will see them there.

Youth Lagoon. Words fail me here. I really like their records. I found the vocalist unpleasant live. Both his appearance and singing weren’t what I was expecting. I know full well his appearance shouldn’t matter. The music is the only thing that should matter. But in a live setting what the band looks like is part of the experience. I’m disgusted with myself for feeling this strongly about about his appearance. Even if I set his appearance aside, his warbling was unpleasant, and I suppose this is a good enough reason to pass on any future concerts. I listed to the album again, and I think there were two problems with this show. First, I am certain that Trevor Powers’s voice has so much reverb on it on the albums it takes the shrill edge off his vocals. As an aside, I think I noticed the same problem with Baths’s singer on Thursday. Second, like MGMT at Bunbury, I’m pretty sure the audience really could have been absent and the show wouldn’t have varied in the least. I hate it when artists do this. (I had to look up grammar rules around possessives just now. Writing is hard.)

I saw The Head And The Heart open for The Decemberists. They were stellar then; they were stellar at this festival. They sound great. They are fun performers. According to my less-than-scientific observation, they packed Washington Park more so than any other act in the fest. Since I had seen them before, I had planned on leaving their show for Warpaint after they played “Down in the Valley”. It’s my favorite song on that album. I’m pretty sure the chord progression that’s most attractive to me is used in at least one other song that I know well, and this might explain my immediate attraction to this tune. I’ve been puzzling over where it’s from for weeks. As They wound up their final song, I thought I was out of luck. I was so pleased when they played it as the final song of their encore.

The Head And The Heart at Washington Park. They were very sweet. They said they were excited that it’s still summer in Cincinnati, because it’s apparently already winter in Seattle.

I’ve been seeing live shows for more than 20 years, and this typically gives me a spidey sense of what a band will do live after hearing their record. Some recordings smell like studio creations that don’t fare well live. I suspected as much of Warpaint. I’m please to say I couldn’t have been more wrong. These women sounded excellent. I would absolutely see them again.

Warpaint at Grammer’s Stage.

I literally only saw half a song of Saturday Looks Good To Me, as they finished their set just as I arrived. I was a bit mesmerized by Warpaint and couldn’t pull myself away. Since I was already at the Know Theater I went up stairs to check out San Fermin. It was PACKED. Just getting in the door and out of the stairway was difficult, let alone get a glimpse of the stage. What I saw and heard was great. I’m not sure how much 30 seconds of listening is worth. I headed to Kishi Bashi.

The Contemporary Arts Center is an appropriate venue for this fest, but the room that they put the bands in is tiny. I think this venue is a train wreck of humans for at least one show of this fest consistently from year to year. This year’s train wreck of humans happened at Kishi Bashi. There were lines to get in. The venue was full and on a 1 in 1 out policy. Since I am a veteran of this fest, I’ve come to expect this. To say that the line of people waiting to get in were impatient is being kind. Although, in their defense the people working the venue weren’t communicating with the crowd. And if I were a first-timer I probably would have been frustrated too. Murder By Death was on my must see list, so I left the line at the CAC for the Taft; my friends who remained in line, got in about 5 minutes. Not bad. They also reported that Kishi Bashi said he’s returning to Cincinnati this year. Great! I will see him then.

Turns out I made a great decision in leaving the CAC. Murder By Death started early! These guys are from Bloomington IN, so I have no idea why I have missed them until now. They play Cincinnati regularly. First, the sound at the Taft was outstanding all weekend, so Murder By Death was no exception. Second, Murder By Death sounded great and put on a great performance. My friend Amanda summarized their sound in this way: it’s like Soundgarden and Morphine had a hillbilly baby. That sums them up nicely. I’m looking forward to the next time they turn up in Cincinnati. In the meantime, here’s my favorite song of theirs, which they played at the show.

Murder By Death at The Taft

Finally, I headed to Sugar Baron at the Main Event. This is the only venue that was consistently poor in terms of sound quality. I think Sugar Baron would be great in a different setting. I only caught a few songs, but what I did hear had over-amplified drums and indistinguishable vocals. I would give them another try in a different setting.

I was excited to find my way home. I was exhausted and very happy with my music experience. It was dawning on me that this years line-up might be the best to date in terms of the quality of the bands booked.

October 1, 2013
by allthenamesaretakensothisisreallyreallylong 6 Comments

Midpoint Music Festival 2013 in Review: Thursday

If you are a regular reader, you know I live in Cincinnati, Ohio. You also know that music is a passion of mine. Midpoint Music Festival is a three-day event in Cincinnati that features ~200 indie rock bands at venues that are walkable in downtown. A three day pass to the event is only 69 dollars. Past artists have included Grizzly Bear and Andrew Bird. This fest is tons of new music for a really low price; it’s my Christmas.

I’ve been to this fest for at least the last 7 years. Before I get into the specifics on the artists that I saw, a word about the over-all experience. This year’s line-up was the deepest and most eclectic that I’ve seen to date. I saw about 30 bands, and not a single one of them were bad. This is a first. At fests like this I usually find hits and misses. I am stunned to say there wasn’t a single miss for me this year. So, the booking this year, really couldn’t have been better. In addition, the sound at the venues excellent, with the exception of Main Event. The sound there was just terrible. With fourteen of the fifteen venues nailing it, I can’t complain. Perfection is tough to achieve. I am crossing my fingers that they weed that venue out for future years. The stand out was The Taft Ballroom. That might be the best sound that I’ve ever heard at this fest.

In years past, the show times ranged between 6pm and 1230am Thursday through Saturday. This year they spread the show times out a bit with day shows at Findlay Market Friday through Sunday and shows starting as early as 1pm on Saturday. I love that they are spreading the music out a bit. Practically, I can see twice the bands with this new arrangement. I loved that, and I hope they keep it up next year. I suspect this move wasn’t intentional. The Cincinnati Symphony opened their season across the street from the Washington Park venue on Saturday night. I think they had to bump the show times up so that the fest noise wouldn’t disrupt the symphony. I hope this happens again next year.

Now then, on to the music. Here’s what my agenda was for Thursday.

5:00 Cincy Brass at Washington Park
5:30 Sidwalk Chalk at MPMF Midway
7:15 Cody ChesnuTT at Washington Park
8:45 Shuggie Otis at Washington Park
8:30 Sohio at Mainstay
9:30 Crystal Bright & the Silver hands at Japp’s
9:30 Fort Shame at Motr
9:30 Kurt Vile at Grammer’s
10:45 N…erves Junior at MOTR
11:15 Dead Gaze at Below Zero
11:30 Baths at Comtemporary Arts Center
12:00 The Thermals at Taft
12:15 Dent May at Below Zero

I basically managed all of that list except Dent May, Dead Gaze, and Nerves Junior. Dead Gaze was late starting, so I had to abandon them to see Baths. I missed Dent May because The Thermals were so excellent, that I couldn’t pull myself away. Nerves Junior had to cancel because they were stuck in a traffic SNAFU due to an animal fat spill on I-71. Yeah, you read that right.

Cincy Brass sounded great, but I haven’t heard them perform poorly yet, so no surprises there. The only unfortunate bit for them was their time slot. Five o’clock on a Thursday just isn’t the best time to get good attendance. Sidewalk Chalk’s music isn’t really my bag, but they sounded great. The bonus was the tap solos that the keyboardists would take at regular intervals. Cody ChesnuTT is an engaging performer fun to watch and great to hear. The only puzzling thing here was the backing vocals. The band was nailing it with their instruments, but their backing vocals were off-key. That took a bit away from the experience, but just a bit. Shuggie Otis and his band were consummate pros. These guys were so tight. The horns were killer. Like Sidewalk Chalk, Shuggie’s music isn’t my bag, but I love a tight performance. I was not disappointed. I only stopped into Sohio for a couple tunes, because I needed to go back uptown for Shuggie. Crystal Bright has an incredible set of pipes. In the age of auto-tuning, live performances have the potential to be disappointing. Crystal’s voice is all real. Fort Shame sounded good, but they didn’t really grab me. Kurt Vile sounded great. Although, something felt empty after hearing Shuggie’s bright horns.

Baths were weird. Weird enough that they get more than a couple sentences. It’s hard to make electronic music compelling to watch live. I can’t get excited about seeing a couple of guys fiddling with tech for an hour. On top of that, I found the singer’s voice off-putting in person. I don’t know what magic happens in the studio (reverb maybe), but it didn’t translate to a live experience. The singer came out looking like he was running a marathon. His shorts were Richard-Simmons short. Musically they nailed it. I loved their albums and will continue to purchase them. I probably won’t pay to see them live again though. If there was a disappointment of the weekend this was it. Of all the bands I listened to in prep for this fest, Baths was my favorite find. And it was the live performance that I liked the least.

The Thermals get a paragraph too. These were my surprise band of the night. I’ve seen so many punk shows. I’ve been to so many Warped Tours before it was Van’s Warped Tour. I’m a little jaded with the punk live show narrative. Moshing. Crowd surfing. Screaming. And often, but not always poor musicianship. The Thermals… They were super tight. There wasn’t a false note. And they were intense in this sweet, earnest way. I wanted to rock with them and give them a hug. I had intended to leave this show a bit early to catch the end of Dent May, but I couldn’t tear myself away. They seemed so genuinely happy that people in Cincinnati would turn up to see them. The drummer ended the show by diving into the crowd. It was sweet, raucous fun.

Friday Recap will come soon!

Kim Deal of the Breeders. Their show wasn’t until Saturday, so the review is pending. But I like the picture.

September 29, 2013
by allthenamesaretakensothisisreallyreallylong 1 Comment

The Cushaw: My Moby Dick of Gourds

I’ve heard rumors that a gourd exists that would taste better in pumpkin pie than pumpkin. I’ve heard these rumors for some years. As described in an earlier blog post, I’ve established a fledgling relationship with a few farmers at the Lunken Farmers Market. They are crusty old men who seem to grow the food they are selling, no wholesalers here. When I picked up 9 pumpkins for canning, one of the old curmudgeons pointed to a very large green and white gourd and asked if I’ve ever made a pie with one. Pretentiousness is pointless with curmudgeon, so admitted that I’d never seen one of those before. As soon as he said that it would make a better pumpkin pie than pumpkin, I knew a new cooking adventure must happen.

The gourd in question is called a cushaw; it’s a winter squash. The internets tells me they are more common in the south. I don’t know how these turned up in Cincinnati. Geographically speaking, calling Cincinnati part of The South is nonsense. If you want to read a bit more about cushaws try this blog out.

The cushaw before I started hacking away at it.

If you have ever engaged in the laborious process of getting pumpkin puree out of a fresh pumpkin, you know that only an intense love of pumpkin can drive you to such lengths. The cushaw has one obvious and one not so obvious advantage over pumpkins in terms of getting them to an edible status. The cushaw’s shape and structure matches that of a butternut squash; so gourd for gourd the cushaw is going to yield considerably more puree than a pumpkin due to the cushaw’s seed cavity taking up considerably less volume. The not so obvious advantage is that the cushaw was much easier to cut through than pumpkin. My cushaw was about 16 inches tall and 10 inches in diameter at its widest. I had visions of getting out my Dewalt reciprocating saw to hack that thing apart. I was pleasantly surprised to find it quite easy to cut through. Cushaw FTW in prep round.

The cushaw with seeds intact.

I split the cushaw. I scraped out the seeds. I put them cut side down on cookie sheets with a bit of olive oil to prevent sticking. I roasted them in the oven on 350 for a little over 1 hour. We scraped out the pulp and ran it through the food processor. Oops. I skipped the part where I ate forkfuls of the pulp out of the roasted gourd, still seaming from the oven. I also skipped the part where we spooned the puree into our mouths. This gourd is tasty. This gourd is tasty without additional embellishments, like pie crusts or cinnamon.

The scraped cushaw.

My writing skills are not quite up to the task of describing how cushaw is different from butternut squash or pumpkin. Cushaw is creamy but more neutral in flavor than pumpkin, acorn, or butternut squash. Whipping cream doesn’t so much have a flavor as it has a mouth-feel. Cushaw has a similar effect. It’s not as sweet as pumpkin, and it’s lacking that distinctive pumpkin flavor. This gourd is a little more like a blank canvas that will reflect the ingredients you pair it with. A creamy canvas.

The puree that didn’t make it to my belly went into three recipes. I used recipes that I have made many times with pumpkin. I felt like this would be the most direct comparison.

Libby’s standard pumpkin pie recipe

Pumpkin bread

Pumpkin roll

The pie was excellent. It turned out a delicate custard. It was rich without being overwhelming. It completely lacked that mealy quality that canned pumpkin pies typically have.

Here’s what the pies looked like right out of the oven.

The pumpkin bread was interesting. Because the cushaw lacks pumpkin flavor, the bread tasted more like chai spice bread than pumpkin bread only with the same dense, rich texture that squashes add to breads. This recipe was excellent, although, if you are jonesing for pumpkin bread, I don’t think this bread will satisfy your desire.

The pumpkin roll was tricky. I think the recipe should have been amended such that the cake stayed in the oven a bit longer. The cushaw seemed to make the cake stickier than it turns out with canned pumpkin. So, the pumpkin rolls turned out pretty ugly. But for what they lacked in beauty, they made up for in taste. Longer cooking time, and maybe draining the cushaw would have helped this recipe out a bit.

The verdict is that the pie was better. The roll and the bread were good, but I wouldn’t say they directly compete with pumpkin. I feel like they were more like new recipes with cushaw in them as opposed to subtly different forms of their pumpkin counterparts.